


My Mishka

by Allegory



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Long haired victor, M/M, PWP, Sex, Smut, Top Katsuki Yuuri, VictUuri, Yaoi, enough said, im a sinner and im lovin it, language exchange, victuuri smut, yoikinkmeme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 14:25:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8670976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allegory/pseuds/Allegory
Summary: Sexy-time with bottom Victor ((:





	

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is warmwintersun and hi i am a sinner k thnx bye

“Vitya,” Yuuri sighs his name, fingers burrowed between locks of platinum hair. His Russian hasn’t seen much improvement in the recent months, but if there’s one word he’s learned to pronounce with absolute fluency, it’s Victor’s name.

Victor gazes at him, eyes lidded and filled with lust. He slows down, arching his back so that he feels every inch of Yuuri inside him, from the base to the very tip. Yuuri loosens his hand, afraid to pull on his hair too hard. But Victor loves it when he does. When Yuuri accidentally tugs and the sharp pain zips down his belly, hitting dead center in his crotch. Victor grabs Yuuri’s hand and keeps it in his hair, sliding down so that his penis is between them, wet and heavy.

“Pull harder,” he begs. Yuuri’s pupils dilate in response, so much that if he’s ever had brown eyes, there’s no trace of them.

“I don’t want to hurt you, _mishka.”_

“I wouldn’t let you,” Victor smirks, grinding his body in a circular motion. Yuuri gasps, his fingers immediately grabbing onto Victor’s hair. Victor mewls sweetly and it’s such a beautiful sound that Yuuri has to reconsider his restraint against pulling Victor’s locks. If he’s enjoying it so much, Yuuri can’t see why not.

He takes the initiative to roll them over. Having Victor underneath him, his hair splayed out on either side like a goddess and the musk of sex and sweat in the air drives Yuuri’s eros beyond anything he’s ever known. Yuuri thrusts harder, loving the way Victor squeezes at the end of each stroke as if needing him to stay inside. The look on Victor’s face, so heady and lost in the moment, floods Yuuri with a sense of possessiveness. He leans in and sucks Victor’s nape, leaving a dark blue bruise on the ashen canvas of his skin.

“More,” Victor moans. “Ah, that’s good, Yuuri. Again.”

Yuuri loves that he’s not even asking for it. Victor knows what he wants, what he needs, and Yuuri is more than happy to oblige. He sucks on another spot of his skin, just below Victor’s neck—a sweet spot, because Victor laces his arms around the back of Yuuri’s neck and pulls him in, reduced to quiet sighs. Yuuri tugs on his hair and Victor’s fingers find his flesh, scrabbling to hold on. The movement reinvigorates him.

“Yes,” Victor chokes out. “Harder, I’m almost there.”

Yuuri hums against his skin. Between the two of them, Victor’s always been the more talkative in bed. Yuuri frets for where they’re going to book their next tickets or when the best parking lots will be available, but since overcoming his awkwardness the first few times they had sex, he’s taken a liking to being dominant, to watch as his mentor melted under his ministrations. Victor’s body is as pliable as he is in on ice, receptive to all sorts of treatments that, like an exquisite box of chocolates, Yuuri has been eyeing from afar, knowing that one day he’ll have the pleasure of unravelling them.

“Ty krasivaya,” _you’re beautiful. “_ My love.”

It’s enough to push Victor over the edge. He gasps, leaving streaks of bright red on Yuuri’s back. Sticky white fluid runs down the edge of Victor’s body as Yuuri finishes a while after, pouring inside him. Yuuri huffs, elbows propped on the bed, his forehead hovering just above Victor’s. Victor cups Yuuri’s face in his palms and just admires the sight of him exhausted, still riding the euphoria off its peak. Yuuri opens his eyes to see Victor smiling at him, a warm blush across his cheeks. No words are exchanged. None are needed; for the past hour each movement has been a tribute of their love for each other, Yuuri’s care in handling Victor’s body, Victor’s faith for him to do so.

Afterwards they lie side-by-side, Yuuri brushing the tresses of Victor’s hair that have grown just past his waist. When summer comes there’s no doubt that Victor will complain of the heat and have it all cut off again. Yuuri leans in and inhales the faint scent of floral shampoo. Until then, he’ll enjoy autumn's gift for all it's worth.


End file.
